


You Distract Me

by alwayseven



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Incest, M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-07
Updated: 2011-01-07
Packaged: 2017-10-14 13:06:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/149512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alwayseven/pseuds/alwayseven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Sam and Dean could have gotten caught.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Distract Me

Dean finds libraries boring in much the same way he hates interviewing law enforcement officers.

Sam enjoys the few hours they spend in the library. It's the semblance of normalcy, the familiarity, that he likes.

"Sam, can we please get the hell out of here?" Dean mutters quietly, bending his head down to keep from getting chastised, again, by the angry librarian with the pinched brow and the orthopedic shoes.

They've been here for close to three hours, researching any and all mentions of sudden, unexplainable deaths of kids between the ages of five and seven and Dean's been antsy for most of it. His knee knocks into Sam's, his foot tapping impatiently.

"If you give me twenty minutes I'll do something for you," Sam whispers, not looking up from the huge book of past issues of the Summersville Chronicle. Sam's found that most old libraries in the small towns they pass through haven't yet gotten around to microfilm, and Sam loves this best, the smell of heavy, leather bound volumes of old newspapers.

"What'll you do?" Dean whispers, and Sam doesn't have to look up to know Dean's grinning lewdly.

"Anything you want if you just be quiet."

Dean doesn't so much as move for the next twenty minutes and Sam has to bite his lip to keep from grinning. Dean is too easy.

When the twenty minutes are up, Sam gets photocopies of the articles he needs and leaves the book on the table.

"You coming?" Sam says over his shoulder. Dean follows him through the near empty main room to the back of the fiction section where shelves of books are crammed together, towering above, close to the ceiling.

Dean makes a sharp noise of protest and before he can open his mouth, Sam turns and backs Dean up against the far wall, between two shelving units and underneath a window fifteen feet above.

Dean lets out a sharp, startled breath that gets swallowed by Sam's mouth closing over his.

Sam pushes his hand inside Dean's jeans, fingers closing around Dean's cock and sucks Dean's tongue into his mouth.

Dean groans and gasps. "Better be quiet," Sam warns against Dean's lips. He tightens his fist and works his wrist faster, feeling the tremble of Dean's thighs where Sam presses him into the wall.

Dean's head falls back against the wall with a dull thud. "I knew you were dirty," he mutters, panting, "I just didn't know you were this dirty."

Sam laughs and twists his hand and Dean comes with a muttered curse, sticky wet come covering Sam's fingers.

Sam kisses Dean's chin and tucks him back into his jeans.

"I fucking love libraries," Dean says, eyes heavy lidded, a lazy grin on his face.

 

* * *

 

They're staying at Ellen's house, resting after driving fifteen hours straight through from a job in Arkansas.

It's two am and Sam's up because he doesn't sleep much these days and it's better than lying in bed counting ceiling tiles.

He's sitting at the yellow formica table in Ellen's tiny kitchen when Dean comes in, blinking against the harsh light.

"Sorry, couldn't sleep," Sam says. _I didn't mean to make you worry,_ is what he doesn't say because Dean worries about him whether he's there or not.

Dean's eyes are soft at the corners, sleepy, and his hair's mussed, making him look oddly vulnerable, younger, like he doesn't have demons and cops on his tail.

"Want some tea?" Sam asks, offering Dean his mug. Dean shakes his head and sits down on the edge of the table, in front of Sam. He tucks a finger in the neck of Sam's shirt and pulls him forward until their foreheads touch. His voice is a little husky with sleep, and maybe something else.

"You should get some sleep," he says, fingers curling in the hair at the nape of Sam's neck.

"I can't," Sam says, closing his eyes, and breathing in. Dean's warm and smells good, like Dean and home, as much of a home as Sam has ever known.

"I could help," Dean says and Sam raises his eyes but there's no lewd smirk or dirty suggestion there.

Sam doesn't say anything and Dean takes that for what it is, acceptance. He slides off the table and throws a leg over either side of Sam's lap, settling firmly against Sam. He's in cotton boxer briefs and a faded t-shirt, and Sam's thin pajama pants don't do anything to hide the pressure of Dean's dick against his.

Dean lowers his head and kisses Sam, slowly, thumbs pressing against Sam's jaw, cupping his face. Dean doesn't do well with the touchy stuff, and Sam knows he's getting this because it's the middle of the night and Dean's still half asleep. Sam'll take this whenever he can get it, even if Ellen could come in at any minute.

Sam digs his fingers into Dean's lower back, holding him where their dicks press firm and hot against each other.

Dean rocks a little, panting open mouthed against Sam's lips and comes, wetness flooding his underwear, seeping into Sam's.

Sam comes a little later when Dean pushes him face down on the table and slides his tongue down Sam's ass, pushing in and fucking him until Sam comes all over himself.

Sam swears he'll buy Ellen a new table if she ever finds out.

 

* * *

 

They're the only two people in the theater. They never see movies but it's a compromise to Dean's insistence that they do something normal.

"Jesus, Sam, this movie blows," Dean says, twenty minutes into a movie about the world coming to an end. It's the third time Dean's said it and Sam admits it's not a good movie but he's tired of listening to Dean's complaints.

He looks hard at Dean, eyebrows raised, and Dean looks chastised and slides lower into his seat, picking at his fingernails and rolling his eyes at the terrible dialogue.

Eight minutes later Sam's bored and he's focusing more on the way Dean looks in those jeans than anything in the movie.

He figures they might as well get their money's worth so he slides to the sticky floor in front of Dean. The look on Dean's face is worth the risk of getting caught. Color flares in his cheeks and his eyes get dark. His fingers are in Sam's hair before Sam's even gotten the snaps open on Dean's jeans.

Dean is warm and not yet hard and Sam likes it like this, likes to coax Dean, turn him on and get him off.

He gives Dean a small private smile and lowers his head.

Dean smells musky and tastes familiar, faintly like soap, and Sam digs his fingers into Dean's thighs and opens his mouth, tongue flat against Dean's cock. It just takes a couple seconds, Sam's mouth tight and hot around Dean and Sam feels Dean get hard. He raises his eyes up, watching Dean watch him. He sucks hard, lips closing around the head of Dean's cock, and locks his eyes on Dean's, watching him slowly come undone.

An usher could come in at any second and that's sort of the point, but still, they should be keeping a low profile so Sam moves faster, mouth tightening, head bobbing on Dean's dick until he feels Dean's fingers tighten in his hair.

Sam's eyes fly up to watch Dean. His head's back against the seat, eyes pressed shut, mouth open. The flush on his cheeks has spread to his throat and there's sweat beading at his hairline. Sam groans and presses the heal of his hand against the front of his jeans. He takes a deep breath in through his nose and pushes forward, swallowing Dean down until Dean lets out a sharp noise and comes down Sam's throat.

Afterwards, Sam slides back up, still hard, and sprawls back into the seat, eyes on the movie. He doesn't dare look at Dean or he'll come and he really doesn't need to walk out of here in come stained jeans.

 

* * *

 

In Bethesda, Maryland, they spend the night sitting stakeout in the Impala, watching a girl they suspect of of summoning vengeful demons to wreak havoc on all her ex boyfriends.

It's twenty-seven degrees outside, twenty minutes from dawn. The darkness is fading at the edges, giving way to pinks and golds and Sam would be happy to watch the sun come up if he weren't so cold. They turn the heat on every so often, but Dean doesn't want to kill the battery. Sam's got four layers on and two blankets over him but he doesn't begin to get warm until Dean pulls him into the backseat.

Sam offers a weak, token protest because what if they miss something important after hours and hours of nothing, but Dean's mouth is warm against his neck and his hands are already pushing into Sam's jeans.

Sam hisses. "You're fingers are freezing," he mutters into Dean's mouth, but it doesn't matter when Dean closes his fist around Sam's cock.

Dean pushes Sam down to lay on the seat and awkwardly straddles Sam's knees. He unzips Sam, pulls his cock out through his underwear and takes him in in one swift breath.

Sam arches off the narrow seat. He reaches above him, braces his hand on the ceiling of the car and squeezes his eyes shut, trying not to come before Dean's taken him all the way in. Sam comes hardest when he's pushing against the back of Dean's throat, Dean's mouth working firmly over him, fingers digging into his hips to hold him down.

Sam tangles the fingers of his free hand in Dean's hair and pushes. Dean's chokes, makes an awkward sound that sounds like a gag, and Sam lets up, waits, and Dean's pushing down again, taking as much of Sam as he can and then his mouth hollows, perfect pressure surrounding Sam and Sam doesn't have time to think or gasp or do anything at all before he's coming.

Dean takes it all, everything, and doesn't pull off until Sam pushes him away, skin too sensitive.

Dean moves up Sam and kisses him until Sam can't breathe then does it again.

 

* * *

 

There's a seedy bar off of highway twelve in Wyoming where they stop in every time they're passing through, where Dean throws darts and hustles pool and Sam sits with a beer at the bar, watching.

They've been on the road four weeks without a real break and this is it, this is what Sam needs.

Later, Dean will follow him into the bathroom, throw the lock and press Sam against the door. Sometimes Sam fucks Dean there, pushes into him from behind and presses his fingers against Dean's mouth to keep him quiet. Sometimes Dean rests against the sink and Sam slides to his knees, brings Dean off with his mouth on his dick and his thumb pushing into his ass.

Mostly, Dean just pushes Sam's arms above his head, holds him with his hips against the wall and kisses him until their lips are swollen and their cocks rub frantically against each other.

Mostly, it's just the two of them, looking for something in each other.

 

[ the end ]


End file.
